


Bearable

by heeroluva



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Asexuality, Dom/sub, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Messy, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-28
Updated: 2012-04-28
Packaged: 2017-11-04 10:52:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/393033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heeroluva/pseuds/heeroluva
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>It’s John who knows when he is drowning, John who always saves him.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bearable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ilfirin_estel](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=ilfirin_estel).



Sherlock didn’t think about emotions, particularly his own. He’d been told on numerous occasions that he did not possess any. He thought slightly more about the emotions of others; while often useless, they could easily be used to be played against and tell him so very much. Sherlock certainly didn’t think about his feelings for John as John sat, back straight and legs spread, ordering him to suck his cock. Sherlock would be bent over the microscope or skimming through a book when John would say his name with that certain inflection that drew his attention without fail.

He pushes it aside. He makes scathing remarks and laughs. He only drowns quietly, when no one else is watching.

“On your knees,” John ordered, his tone brokering no room for argument.

Sherlock, however, had no plans to quarrel and sank gracelessly to his knees, uncaring of the hard floor beneath them or the bruises that he could already feel. John’s cock was already out and hard, dripping in excitement. Sherlock was mesmerized by the glistening head, wanting to taste him, feel John as he drank him down. Nothing else mattered. Only this.

Sherlock’s mouth all but watered at the sight, so badly wanting to lean forward and draw him in, but John hadn’t given permission yet. He’d learned the hard way that this would be over before it started if he was selfish. John was in control. It was refreshing, and slowly Sherlock was learning that he could let go, be swept away and let it all slip away for a period of time.

John’s foresight hadn’t been expected, that he’d known Sherlock would like this when Sherlock himself had no such knowledge about himself. It had never even registered to try it. But here on his knees before John, Sherlock found something he’d never had before: freedom.

Finally John’s hand stilled from the slow stroking he’d kept up, his foreskin covering the head. He offered his cock to Sherlock, but still Sherlock didn’t lean forward, didn’t catch the drip of precum that trailed towards the floor so very slowly as though it was fighting gravity. But Sherlock wasn’t thinking about that. Instead, he was focused on John, waiting for permission, for the words.

“Suck me.”

Sherlock didn’t hesitate, opening his mouth and running his tongue under the loose skin. The taste of John exploded across Sherlock’s tongue, his scent swirling around him, consuming him. Shivering, Sherlock gently rolled John’s foreskin back with his lips as he licked at the glans before dropping down to the shaft, lavishing it with long swipes of his tongue until it glistened with saliva.

Fisting his hand in Sherlock’s hair, John pulled his head back forcing Sherlock away and his eyes up. “I said suck. I think you need another lesson in manners.”

Sherlock whimpered at that, remembering the last time as he’d spent a week following John’s orders, never allowed to touch. Never again. “Please.” Such a simple word, but it held so much meaning.

Something in John’s gaze softened and he nodded. “If you can swallow me in one go all will be forgiven.”

Trembling, Sherlock dropped his head, the pull of his hair where John’s fingers were still woven, spurring him on. It was almost cruel, but then John was never cruel. Not without reason. It was only recently that Sherlock could take all of him because while John’s cock might have been short, it more than made up for it in thickness. He’d never been able to take it all before, not in one go, not without considerable struggle. But he could do this. For John.

John’s other hand dropped to Sherlock’s head, guiding him forward. Curing his lips over his teeth, Sherlock opened his mouth into an ‘O’ as John’s cock slid into his mouth, pressing deep. The first press against the back of his throat, caused Sherlock to gag, but he controlled it, forced himself to keep going.

John’s hands were a lifeline, offering steady support, drawing him forward. “Good, you’re doing so good, Sherlock.”

Breathing through his nose, Sherlock swallowed past his reflex, not fighting the tears that streamed down his face as his throat convulsed around the flesh in it.

Groaning at the feeling of Sherlock’s throat massaging the head of his cock, John hissed, “Yes. Just like that.”

A warmth that had nothing to do with lack of oxygen grew in Sherlock’s chest as he kept going. The prickly sensation of the thick curls at the base of John’s cock against his lips signified that he was almost there. And finally he had it all, could practically feel John’s heart beat in his own chest.

John held him there for a moment, Sherlock’s lips stretched around the base of his cock before letting him up, guiding him back.

Sherlock drew in a deep breath and looked up as John didn’t pull him forward again. John’s face was flushed with pleasure, but there was a small smile on his face as he dropped one hand and rubbed at the wet mess of tears and saliva on Sherlock’s face. It was a mess that Sherlock usually wouldn’t have liked, but knowing that John liked it, took pleasure in it, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

John didn’t judge him, not like everyone else. It should have scared him, but Sherlock found himself drawn to it. As John tugged Sherlock forward again, Sherlock let himself sink deeper, drifting in the taste and feel and scent of John. This was all that mattered. As John’s movement sped up, all but fucking his mouth, pausing at the end of each motion to enjoy the feel of Sherlock’s throat around him, Sherlock knew he was close. And finally John pulled back completely, not sinking back in. Mouth open, John came across Sherlock’s tongue, his face, his hair.

Panting, John hauled Sherlock up onto his lap, cupping his face and spreading the mess around as he took Sherlock’s mouth in a kiss. Tasting himself, devouring Sherlock as though he could never get enough of him (he couldn’t).

Kissing him back, Sherlock pressed closer, needing the contact, knowing that this wouldn’t last. He shivered as John’s hand pressed between his thighs, cupping his limp prick and balls. There was no judgment there, no expectation or disappointment. It was rare for Sherlock to desire that, and John didn’t criticize, didn’t push when he wasn’t interested. And when Sherlock was, it wasn’t painful or awkward or full of embarrassment because John knew.

But this wasn’t one of those times. As the minutes ticked by, the kiss grew less heated, more leisurely and Sherlock knew it would end soon. He wished it wouldn’t, wanting to stay forever like this with John. He must have done something, indicated his displeasure because John pulled away slightly.

Murmuring against Sherlock’s lips, John said, “Shhh. Relax. I’ve got you. Always, Sherlock.”

And somehow those words let Sherlock slip down again. He believed them. John was always there for him, always at his back, trying to do the best for Sherlock when Sherlock didn’t even know what the best was. Not even Mycroft with all his monitoring and worry knew him like John. There was no one else like John. 

It’s John who knows when he is drowning, John who always saves him.

Dropping his head to John’s neck, he whispered soundlessly, “Thank you.”

John’s arms tightened fractionally around him, his fingers running through Sherlock’s hair. “You never need to thank me, Sherlock.”

But Sherlock did. He felt this, felt for John, like he never had before. There had been something absent, something that he’d never missed, not until he had it. John was important to Sherlock like no one else had ever been, and Sherlock would do whatever was asked of him. Anything for John because he made the world bearable.


End file.
